Sometime during the summer her son Henry noticed the explosive flower’s splendor in the garden. Off and on he comes over for lunch to visit his parents. Sally had problems finding a plausible explanation, how all of this beauty came about. “You know that Darwin saw a brain in the worm-like radicles?”, she murmured at her son. “Plants stretch out for something, pick their destination themselves and their way! Goethe and Steiner discovered that they grow in opposite directions, partly in the soil, attracted by gravity, partly in the air, as if they would move through some kind of “light force”. “Radiation of course!”, Sally completes the sentence. “Look, I have planted a garden of Common Comfrey for us. And the Stinging Nettle as best medicinal plant ever. Albrecht Dürer drew an Angel flying towards heaven with the Nettle in hand to the “Throne of the Most High”. And over there a group of Speedwell, the salvation of all world resources! So many good, cherished properties with weird folk names – God’s Eye and Female Fluellin. When you touch the leaves, they fall off easily- I wonder why they were named God’s Eye, if that is of any interest to you, my dear boy. The curative effect is calming nervousness and mental overexertion. I rubbed it in under your father’s nose. Being with you I feel this through the plant’s energy, I’m sure you understand what your MOM speaks of. So stay with me, I still have a beautiful Velvet Lady’s Mantle bed, with the most beautiful weird names such as Jonny Jump Up (wild pansy) and Chase-Devil. A garland was decorated on the head of the Savior in Lourdsnook. St. Peter’s wort, which must not be forgotten, is also a very Catholic herb; Palma Christi, God’s-Colorful-Herb, God’s-Herbal-Grace and Goodsblood. That’s why I planted the herb bed of purple hyacinths around it. The dandelion should be within the bed, but asserted itself on the lawn”.

Henry had conscientiously listened to the complete sermon. Sally slowly ebbed away into the background: “It’s also called monk flower – there’s something about the old names”. Henry watched his mother entirely banned, picturing her as a statue in the garden- a rangy bone structure, round, weighed down shoulders, a tree-garden statue with stately size. Long smooth, gray hair, old strong hands on delicate joints, whizzing in the garden, tenderly stroking the flowers and leaves, almost a J. Prévert image. She has always created her own world, otherwise they would be divorced long ago, he thinks to himself quietly. When I was a child she used to face me slantways watching over me, as a clearly defined part of a whole. That was her peculiarity. Looking seemingly somehow around me, while focusing on breaking me into little pieces and legend me with her researchers view – and lay a type of Corona around me. A force field of a different kind.

Henry, just like his father, loves any kind of technical novelty. Henry’s apartment looks like a magic- playhouse -cave full of electronic equipment. Magneticphase- Feedback-Blocked Micro-Electronics on Silicon- Plates with built in Discriminators. The Lab chief wanted to throw the modules away, because they weren’t heat resistant. Henry puzzled it all out -the electronics-and now his construct serves as a bridge to measure small changes in the source field with noise-reducing components. What exactly Henry does, Sally doesn’t know. Technical stuff. He works at the Institute for Atmospheric Physics and tells his mother about the danger of Red Clouds, or just the purple flow of Co2- loading and changing atmosphere, all simulated by a computer software. In his laboratory they are working on an Earth- System- Modeling- Concept, which will be the future doctor for the sickening atmosphere. The curse, of how our way of life influences the health of our Earth, according to Henry and his colleagues; “we might not cure the problem at the root, but it will nurse it”. Henry once said to his mother: “that medicine has helped many patients”. Sally is proud of her son, and Sam literally idolizes him, although educating him never was at the forefront of his thinking. “There is certainly still a lot more healing concepts for the planets mantle”, Sally replied, ignoring the black side of future.

Back to back on Earth
The eyes half open lying in the grass
Look to the sky!
The butterflies free swinging wings
Alive fluent covered by light
Words to images only shells
Touching feelings, part of nature
Eyes which see the poertry of things
The undergrowth of appeal- a make believe
Shapes of masks see-throughs
Formless cycles, boundaries of being.

“Our Institute, somehow offended by the interruption, replied Henry, just as relaxed and a little condescending, has not only awesome scientists, we designed the latest computer software, specially designed for the prediction of atmospheric relevant foresight, for all societies and politics and incidentally we also won a renowned Technology-Prize.” My Magneticphase- Feedback –Blocked- Discriminator is a measuring bridge to determine the smallest changes in the atmosphere, without significant noise, electro-chemical signals or other interfering radiation. Not every Institution is capable of doing such scientific research. She definitely approves what her son sets himself as a task, but she isn’t really interested in the details. “I don’t understand it anyway”, she unabashedly admits.
I do my own research on whether plants are endowed with reason and sensitivity. “I love the transmitted emotional signals from plants,” she says, and walks of to the kitchen where her husband waits. From the frying pan into the fire, it wanders thru her head. From Sally’s perspective, Sam has an electrolyte imbalance or some faulty radiation going on. She feels her force field melt by signals from an incarnated computer, who sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand. What an exciting interaction?

What does that mean for my neural system, she chuckles? What would a tree do? She felt an immediate relaxation of her voltage to frequency phase. “She used this second to embrace her husband with a big gesture and whispers in his ear: “Henry is half a genius, like his father.” “How is the weather, Sam asks, you’re still our weather prophet?” “What says the forb”? “The plant can do it better. Now, you have your answer”.

Sally has gone every Wednesday to Kundalini Yoga for over 7 years. This is her other pillar to thread more health, happiness and quality to their lives. Sam grins every time she says “she’ll update her cosmic background radiation”. “The body doesn’t stretch by itself”, she says to Sam, who once again is sitting at his computer. The captain on board. “Your glandular system would love you. Stretching your toes and feet, engaging in the fire breathing gear. If you knew, how good this feels, you’d be eager to come along as my guest to the Yoga Studio. My circular flow is proof-trained”, she proudly says. “I’m happy for you, that should be enough for that, actually”, while he rattles on the keyboard. “I stretch other muscles in the body, e.g. the brain mass”. “Nothing wrong with that!”, Sally says laconically. “I have offered you and if you’re sure you don’t want to meet really nice, in their twenties girls, own fault.” “This is an argument, but I’m busy now and not willing to change direction. OK”! “Whatever he wants” and walks out the door.

The group is magical; It’s like all morphogenetic fields acted in concert to direct flocks of birds in ups and downs, gliding in the air together and never touching. Sally smiles. In her woman Yoga group they do headstands to exercise the vital energy of the Apana- everything what is located below the navel. What’s there? Yes, the very energy that can ascend from the lower pole, the domaine of sexuality, to the upper pole, consciousness, to carry out the connection of “cosmic marriage”. Sally knows, and here she is not alone, that her husband is her bridegroom in the universal cosmos. In Real time he is in the act of stretching his frontal lobe together with his computer, is active in Brain- Yoga. OOO. Maybe, I can feel something, she giggles. A tingling sensation in her lap is the best resonant bottom for the brain and therefore good food for consciousness, she once read. Then she imagines how Sam and her get in the shower. Gentle mutual soaping, the scent of essential oils her neurons recall from memory, a long kiss, caresses everywhere, but nothing more-! She will ask later, when she’s back home again, how he felt the couple of hours without her. Fun aside, the real challenge is surely in asceticism in thinking.

I don’t think, so I am, true proverb of a Yogi. Only in this way, teaches the Yogi, can we avoid false consciousness content. Being a rebellion in spirit, she goes a step further. In favorable alpha-radiation background her energy level enables her to project her thoughts in an infinite space. Her head turns into a theater stage, which is flooded from above with different colored spotlights. In concert with light, dancers with flowing movements, create music using the rays of laser light. She becomes her own audience listening to monotonous, serial sequences overlapped with delicate colors, her “world of sea” head movie. During this type of scenario it accrued that the image of the yoga girls turned by 180 degrees in her third eye. The women were now standing, with bent arms, protecting their heads with open palms standing. That’s also a way of seeing it, short comment at the edge of the universe, internally ridiculing her thinking.

Back at home, Sam watches Sally placing her yoga clothes back in the closet. He observes her slim and in shape body whizzing around seeing no sign of aging. He lightly closes his laptop to zoom in with all his attention on her. During the analysis of the Atmo-Data Henry had given him, he felt overwhelmed by a warm feeling. He noticed the sweat on his forehead. His whole body felt flooded with softness and relaxation. Sam wondered and couldn’t find an explanation, what had happened to him. Where the hell… is this tsunami of emotions coming from. I’m concentrating on mere facts…I am not a pervert, someone who gets horny over numbers!

My god, Sally is right; I need to stay away from the computer. The door to the garden had been open, which, as it seemed to Sam, blew in a gentle breeze of lilac scent. Sam pondered briefly in his head, if lilac comes as a pure essential oil, while the numbers chart afterglow reflecting in his glasses? Not a clear thought was accessible to him. He felt as he had drunk from a bottle of fabric softener. Without glasses, rubbing his innocent eyes and watching his wife prowling around. Sally, master in simulating cluelessness, just waiting for the right moment to finish the Raja-Yoga experiment. Make it happen, now. Sex simply is the best food for a healthy human consciousness, the soul and of course the spirit. Pure inspiration and vitality, if spherically clever set in motion. She doesn’t feel haunted by a bad conscience – women may manipulate on an emotional level. Men need this, there is the Yin and Yang and that has proven to work out for human beings. A Gauscher blur filter superimposed on the observational Sam. A slight head movement by Sally towards their bedroom, a wordless understanding…

She wants to stay the distant Muse
In a dramatic dialog the best place
Lost saved
Blissfully, sure
A sense of flow
The logic of things
No coincidence.
Now,
I let anything happen
Free from fear of falling
unison in the sea
sharing of feelings
swaying
playfully releasing the chains
The gentle body a rhythmic instrument
Let me caress you
Courage
Christening of a bell.